


Welcome back home

by Krummbein



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mention of Dudley Dursley - Freeform, Mention of Rita Skeeter, Narcissa Malfoy is a badass, Not Beta Read, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, The author is French
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22331959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krummbein/pseuds/Krummbein
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy is beginning to fear her husband and the influence that the Dark Lord has upon him. Desperate, she writes to her cousin, Sirius Black, and asks for his help in order to divorce. What will she decide to do when Sirius comes back from the Potter’s, on the night of October the 31st?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 125





	Welcome back home

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> This is my third fiction in English, and this time not about Dramione! I hope you will enjoy it!
> 
> Krummbein
> 
> Ps: I'm French, so please excuse my mistakes. If you want to help me, please leave me a comment or contact me at krummbeinmaghermine@gmail.com and leave a comment to tell me you've sent an e-mail !

Mrs. Dursley was a perfectly normal woman, thank you very much. She had the perfect husband, a nice man named Vernon who loved her deeply and cherished her, and they had had the most beautiful baby ever, their wonderful little Dudley.

She had met Vernon a few months after the end of her studies: she was a young secretary and he was an employee, just at the beginning of his career. Soon however, they had known that they were made for each other and, only after a few months together, he had proposed. Their wedding had made the other girls in her family jealous, as had the house they had rapidly bought.

Vernon had then been promoted, and she had stopped working after discovering her pregnancy. Three months after the birth of their son, her husband had decided to set up his own company and today, less than two years after the beginning, he had already hired four new employees. In other words, her life was perfect.

Perfect… perfect but there was an exception.

Petunia glanced at the cupboard’s door and quickly looked away. The  _ thing _ was quiet. She shuddered, remembering the gruesome discovery less than one year ago.

As always, she had awoken earlier than the rest of the house so that she would be able to cook breakfast. One-year-old Dudley was a good eater, and she was glad to make him discover varied kinds of food after he had taken his morning cereals. Hence why she usually took one hour every morning to prepare the first meal of the day.

Every day, after she had taken her infusion in order to think clearly, she would go outside to take the milk bottle the delivery man left on the porch. Last year, when she had opened the door, there was no bottle. Instead of that, she had found a bassinet with a sleeping child, and a letter.

Her first impulse had been to scream. This had been a bad idea. The  _ thing _ had awoken, and had screamed too. As she brought it back in the house– she could not let it outside, what would the neighbors say? – Vernon had come down the stairs in a hurry and had shouted when he had seen the small package in her arms. On top of that, Dudley had begun to yell, disturbed by the screams of his family members.

Alas for Petunia, the nightmare had only begun. She had read the letter and, even if she knew that she was about to make the worst mistake in her whole life, she had convinced Vernon that they had to keep the child. Her husband had surrendered but imposed some rules.

Whatever the circumstances, their son would stay their main preoccupation. They would dedicate time and money to their  _ nephew _ only if they had no choice. The child would inherit Dudley’s things, and would stay at home as often as possible. They would not buy a new car seat, a stroller or toys.  _ After all,  _ had said Vernon _ , why should we invest in a child with no future? _

_ But above all _ , he had added,  _ I don’t want to hear about those preposterous stories. If he has to stay, then he will respect  _ our  _ lifestyle. Not the one his crazy parents had. _

Of course, Petunia had accepted those conditions. She herself was not doing it by family obligation, but because she had no choice. The letter had been clear. If she disobeyed,  _ they _ had ways to insure she would change her mind.

She heard a noise coming from the floor above and she went to collect her son from his crib. After changing his diaper, she checked that  _ the other one _ had not moved and put Dudley in his stroller. She would surely have enough time to go for a walk. And even if he was awakened before she came back, then maybe he could wait a bit longer.

Summer was now officially here, and Petunia decided that she would take Dudley in the little park nearby. She let him play a bit before buying him a waffle. It seemed that the fresh air and the exercise had made him hungry, and he ate it in three bites. After that, she put him back in the stroller and left for her home. The park was not far from the street they lived in and it took Petunia less than ten minutes to be back.

When she arrived however, something seemed strange. Was it a particular smell? A curtain that had been moved? The fact that no noise was coming from the house? She could not say. Still, when a perfect stranger opened the door of her own home, she was not as surprised as she should have been.

**A few months earlier**

Draco tightly secured in her arms, Narcissa was pacing. Her husband had been away for a week, and he had missed his heir's first birthday. She did not need to imagine what he was doing. She knew it.

During their engagement, Lucius had told her he was one of the Dark Lord’s followers. She was of course familiar with that name, as she was with his ideas she could only approve. What she did not like, however, was the way he was implementing them. While she was a student at Hogwarts, magical school for witches and wizards, Narcissa had been in the house of Slytherin. There, power, ambition and the pursuit of greatness were qualities that were appreciated. As was subtlety. The Dark Lord had the first three of them. The fourth one, however, seemed to have disappeared over the years.

Yes, Narcissa wanted a world where Pure-bloods were in power. Yes, she had some difficulties understanding why  _ Muggle-borns _ should have responsibilities. But it did not mean one should declare a war to kill them all. Even less if it meant for her husband to lose his mind and health. And if it meant for her losing her  _ own _ health. Without realizing it, she touched her arm, trying to find the invisible mark of the first blow he had given her, six months earlier.

Narcissa suddenly felt that the wards had changed and recognized Lucius’ arrival. Quickly leaving her suite, she went to the first place she knew her husband would go to: his office. As she arrived, the sound of an angry voice was heard.

“You imbecile! I told you to be careful!”

Behind the door, Narcissa recognized Dobby’s voice, the house elf attached to Lucius.

“Dobby is sorry, sir, Dobby will be careful from now on,” whined the elf before screaming again.

Narcissa assumed he had been hit. Her hand on the handle, she held back. Was it really a good idea, if her husband was like this? In her arms, Draco moved and she watched him, thinking. A boy needed his father, and she could not stop her son seeing his just because he was violent against her or their servants. He loved their son. She knocked, two times.

The door opened, giving her a glimpse of Lucius. When she saw him, Narcissa froze and did her best to stay impassive. His face, once so expressive, was cold and hard, and she could see several deep cut scarring. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and blood appeared to have coagulated in his hairs.

“Lucius…”

She did her best to smile and came nearer, showing him Draco in her arms.

“Your son and myself were worrying about you… I thought the mission was supposed to last only two days?”

“The Dark Lord needed me longer. He heard about a rumor and he needed me to verify it.”

“I see. But could you not ask someone else to do it? Somebody like you should not do that kind of thing, don’t you think?”

She dared not say anything else, because Lucius’s face had grown hard.

“You think that what I do for the Dark Lord is not worthy of me, is that correct?” he asked sweetly, wand in his hand.

“No Lucius, I mean that…”

“It’s an  _ honor _ Narcissa, do you hear me? An  _ honor _ my son will one day share with me.”

“Lucius, I…”

“And if you don’t like it, never mind. A woman has nothing to say about her husband’s business,” he added dryly.

“LUCIUS. I’m sorry Lucius, it’s just that I worry. I don’t recognize you anymore. I don’t want to lose you. If you could just ask him less dangerous missions, and ask him to take money from someone else. He is using you, Lucius,” she said without breathing once.

She did not see his hand coming, but she felt its impact on her cheek. She stepped back, barely avoiding a new collision.

“I. WILL. NOT. LISTEN. TO. SUCH. NONSENSE. IS THAT CLEAR, NARCISSA?” he asked, accompanying every word with a blow.

She nodded frantically, holding Draco who had awoken and was screaming with terror.

“Out. And do not come until I ask for you.”

When she put Draco in his crib, Narcissa made a decision. The Lucius she had married had disappear and has been replaced by a dangerous man, with unpredictable reactions. If she stayed by his side, Draco would be in danger, either by the violence this stranger was capable of, or by the future he would have at the Dark Lord’s side. She had to leave Lucius. But she could not disappear like that. The marriage bond they had was too strong for her to vanish forever. She had to break it. Divorce. But in order to do that, she had to ask the Head of her household.

Narcisa headed towards her desk. She had a letter to write.

"Mrs Dursley?"

The man standing in front of her was tall and stern. With the right clothes, he could have passed for a magistrate giving his verdict. However, he was wearing a curious outfit that made him look like he had escaped from a history book. Petunia shivered instinctively.

"It's me," she said dryly.

"Edouard Smith, representative of the Wizengamot. And this is my colleague, Mr. Stewart Bertram."

Petunia looked at the place the stranger had designated and her breath stopped when she saw the other man, who was holding the  _ child _ . He seemed to be completely awake and was trying to catch a soap bubble flying in front of him.  _ Strange _ , she thought,  _ I don't have a bubble blower _ ... It was only when she saw the source of the bubbles that she understood.  _ Wizards _ . At  _ her place _ . With  _ the child _ .

Petunia felt panic overwhelm her. She was about to turn around and pray that her neighbor was at home when the first man walked away from the door and motioned for her to enter.

"We will be more comfortable inside, Mrs. Dursley."

She could no longer escape. Hugging Dudley tightly, Petunia followed the man to the living room.

**A few months earlier**

When he received his cousin's letter, Sirius Black was first suspicious. He hadn't had contact with her for almost five years, and he knew for sure that she was married to a prominent Death Eater. The fact that the letter was magically sealed, however, and its contents, however, made him change his mind.

_ Dear Sirius, _

_ It's been almost five years since I last heard from you, and almost five years since have I given you any news. _

_ As you can imagine, my personal convictions and your attitude towards our family were the reasons why I lost interest in you. _

_ Today, however, I am lost. _

_ My beliefs have not changed, but the life I have now makes me doubt the decisions I took during those last five years. My husband’s company, as well as his friends’ methods to spread their words, disgusts me. To be honest, I no longer recognize Lucius. _

_ It had been a few months since I realized this, but an event that occurred today made me realize the truth: the man I married  _ _ is not here anymore _ _ , and  _ _ will not come back _ _. Every day I wake up next to a stranger, a man who does not hesitate to put his own family in danger, and that scares me. For the first time since my marriage, I am afraid for my life, but also for my son’s. _

_ I recognize that my attitude towards you has never been very sympathetic. To be honest, I even hated you. I hated with passion these convictions that you held your own, just as I hated these friends that you cherish so much and the fact that you abandoned your own family. This family, however, has not disowned you, and it is in the name of our blood ties that I write to you today. _

__ _ I can no longer live with Lucius. I don't want to endanger my son, and staying with his father will be the death of him, I know it. I don't want to lose him like we lost Regulus. I want to see him live, grow into a nice young man, marry a person he can cherish and not despise. _

_ For that I need your help, Sirius. As Lord Black, only you have the power to break the bonds of my marriage. I know you work for the Order of Phoenix, and I'm ready to give what little information I have about Lucius' associations in exchange for our freedom. _

__

_ If you accept my proposal, let me know through the Daily Prophet. I'm sure you can find the right words. _

__

_ Sincerely, _

_ Narcissa Malfoy, Née Black _

__

Petunia had removed her coat and was trying to stay calm. These two men were armed, and she was alone against them, with a child. She collectedly entered the living room and sat on her sofa, Dudley on her lap.

“Tea?" asked the stranger who had opened the door -  _ Smith _ , she remembered.

She did not answer, and he looked at his colleague who agreed. A teapot, two cups and a tray of cookies appeared out of nowhere, startling her.

“I suppose you would like to know why we are here, Mrs. Dursley?”

When she continued to say nothing, he carried on.

“About a month ago, the Wizengamot received a complaint from Lord Sirius Black. Do you know that name, Mrs. Dursley?”

She nodded negatively. Why would she know the names of all the degenerates of his kind?

“At the birth of your nephew, Lord Black was designated as his godfather. At the time of his parent's death, it would therefore have been normal to entrust him with the young Harry present here. However, Albus Dumbledore - I think you are familiar with that name, right? - Albus Dumbledore had Harry brought to your house and explained to Lord Black that he would thus benefit from better protection your sister gave him thanks to your blood relationship.”

Hearing this, Petunia couldn't help but let out a groan of disdain. The two men looked at her curiously then exchanged a glance, apparently understanding something.

“Lord Black only accepted because he intended to find the person who had betrayed James and Lily Potter. When he was done, he asked the Wizengamot to reconsider his request, which we accepted. Like Dumbledore, we concluded that the child was better off with you.”

He paused, and his colleague took over.

“The Department of Magical Justice - where I work - then received complaints from a large number of our fellow citizens asking that the judgment be reviewed. You see, an article had just been published in the country's most widely read newspaper and contained a summary of a week in your house, written by a journalist who had watched your family. The author said that young Potter was neglected, and sometimes even endangered without anyone worrying about it. Neither you nor your husband take care of him, unless you have no choice. But I think what really shocked our fellow citizens were the photos that were published at the same time as the article. Harry Potter has become a hero for us, and a hero should not sleep in a closet, nor be forced to stay in his own excrements for a whole day.”

Petunia felt her breath stop and pursed her lips to avoid betraying her confusion. Sweat began to run down her neck.

“We were therefore mandated by our respective departments so that we could see the situation by ourselves. Mrs. Dursley,” he said gravely, “I'll be honest. We entrusted Harry Potter to you in hopes that he would have a normal life and that the death of his parents would not be an obstacle for him. Despite the often archaic vision that our community has of you and your fellow citizens, we sincerely thought that you would accept with open arms this child who is the only living memory you have of your deceased sister. Mrs. Dursley”, he went on after a few seconds. “I regret to announce that you no longer have the custody of Harry James Potter, and that we will do our utmost to ensure that your government accepts a judgment from our community for the following reasons: negligence and mistreatment, lack of health care, endangerment of a child in your care.”

**A few months earlier**

It had been two weeks since she had sent her letter to Sirius, and she had not heard of him. Narcissa was beginning to fear the worst. Did he receive her mail? If not, had it been intercepted? Every morning, she expected to see her husband entering the dining room with the letter in his hand, furious. Maybe she would have preferred that.  _ At least _ , she thought,  _ I would know _ . The wait had become so horrible that she no longer slept at night and got up later than usual.

As she sat - alone - at the table, an elf brought up breakfast and a tray of mail. Narcissa grabbed the Prophet which was on top of the social letters she received daily and scanned the classified ads. Nothing. She sighed, and lingered for a few moments on an article promoting Narcissus. Narcissus... The young woman's heart skipped a beat, and she began frantically dissecting what she was reading.

**_Narcissus for sale this week only, 50% discount if you arrive on time!_ **

_ Be the first to benefit from our offer, come see us! New stand located in Hogsmeade. _

_ Offer exclusively valid from 9 a.m. to 9.15 a.m. _

At first, Narcissa did not see any logic in the way the article was written. However, there was a meeting place and an hour. But was it really for her? She looked at the sentences again in detail, trying to understand if the words had been placed at random. Narcissus was at the start of the sentence. Hogsmeade and 9 a.m. in fifth position. 1, 5, 5… But of course! If she added the number 9, her year of birth appeared, and she was able to reconstruct a semblance of a sentence: Narcissus come Hogsmeade 9 a.m. And if she could rely on the other clues, the meeting could take place this week only and not after 9.15 a.m.

Narcissa looked at the clock in front of her and saw that it indicated 8.49 a.m. She still had time. Lucius was used to her being away, and she could still shop at Hogsmeade if she went there to have a perfect alibi. She called her personal elf.

“Tipy!

A  _ pop _ was heard, and a little elf appeared before her.

“Mistress Narcissa asked for Tipy?”

“Tipy, I'm going to Hogsmeade to do some shopping for next week's ball. I should be back for lunch. Please take care of Draco while I'm away.”

The elf bowed very low.

“Mistress Narcissa can trust Tipy, Tipy will be very happy to play with the little Master,” the elf replied.

Narcissa nodded quickly and, after she had put a light cloak on her shoulders, apparated.

She apparated at the entrance of the village and waited a few seconds for her stomach to calm down. Apparition after breakfast was definitely a bad idea. After that, she started looking for the stand mentioned in the article.

A quarter of an hour later, however, she had lost patience. She hadn't seen anything that looked like what she was looking for, and she wondered if she hadn't been fooled. Was it her husband's idea to write this article, so that he could be sure that she had betrayed him? He liked that kind of game.

Suddenly, she felt her tongue curl backward on itself, and she panicked when she felt an invisible hand rest on her arm.

“Narcissa…”

The voice was right next to her ear, but she couldn't see the outline of a silhouette. Yet the hand was there, and had grabbed her wrist as if to keep her from moving. She remained where she was, impassive.

“Continue your shopping as if nothing had happened,” said the voice. “Answer my questions discreetly with a word or a gesture. If that's okay, nod slightly.”

She nodded, and the pressure on her wrist disappeared as she felt her tongue return to its normal state in her mouth. She went to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop and did her best to get lost. She grabbed the first book she found - Nursery Rhymes for Insomniac Trolls - and started reading it.

“I've been following you since your arrival, and I concluded that you were alone," said the voice softly. "You also don't have a location spell or suspicious instruments on you.”

The voice paused, and she waited patiently, trying to stay calm.

“I received your letter. I must admit that I was surprised, Cissa. The situation must be really desperate if you’re willing to write to me. Is this the case?”

“Yes," she whispered.

“You wrote that you were afraid for your son’s life and yours as well, is that still the case?”

Narcissa put her hand on the page of the book and ran her finger over the title of a nursery rhyme -  _ I'm afraid of the dark _ \- emphasizing the word  _ afraid _ .

“... was Lucius violent towards you before you wrote to me?”

She bit her lip nervously and nodded sharply.

“And since you sent your letter?”

This time she put the palm of her hand on the cover of the book, showing him her fingers so he could count.  _ Five times _ , she thought bitterly,  _ in just two weeks _ .

“Does your husband still have his villa in France?”

She nodded, immediately understanding what he meant.

“If I tell you to go to the village just next to it, in about a week, with your son, will you be there?”

She nodded again, her heart beating frantically.

“Alright. I’ll contact you again by sending a message using the same code. Until then ... be careful.”

“You have no right.”

Petunia has never felt so bad in her life. Cold sweat was now running down her back, and she felt herself on the verge of fainting.

“Indeed, we don't have the authority to bring you with us. Rest assured, however, that as soon as our report is made, our government will get in touch with yours and work to find an agreement for a well-deserved judgment. If you are not convicted by our government, yours will definitely do something.”

Stunned, she almost dropped Dudley who was trying to get down.

"You can't ..." she said weakly.

The wizard ignored her and put his hat on before indicating to his colleague that he was done. He took his wand out of his inner robes and, ignoring the scream of terror she had just had, waved it.

“Um, it looks like Mr. Potter doesn't have any clothes to go out. Never mind, we'll take those from his cousin.”

And, as soon as he had said these words, a light coat and a small bonnet appeared before him and his colleague helped him dress the child.

“Well. Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Dursley. You’ll hear from us soon. After all, this is a serious case that we have there.”

**31 October 1981**

It had been a little over four months since Narcissa had left the Manor, and she had never felt as free as today. As soon as she set foot in the village where her villa was located, Sirius had appeared and, using a portkey, brought them directly to the ancestral home of the Blacks. It was protected by the best enchantments known to date and Sirius had assured her that Lucius would not be able to find her.

From then on, everything went very quickly. Her cousin had gone to the ministry the same day to have the divorce recorded, and she had then met Albus Dumbledore - head of the Order of the Phoenix - to tell him everything she knew about Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He seemed very happy with what she told him, but also very happy for her.

“You made the right decision, Mrs. Black. Sirius will take care of you and your son. In return, I hope that you will help him become responsible!”

She had smiled when she had heard those words and got to work. Sirius was bad-tempered and the first weeks were exhausting for both parties. However, a routine quickly set in, and everyone managed to learn to control their emotions.

The front door slammed, and she guessed that her cousin had returned. He had left earlier that evening to check on something he had refused to tell her about and had not told her when he would be back.

When Sirius arrived in the room, she let out a scream.

“SIRIUS!”

His face was unusually pale, and big tears were running down his cheeks. He let out a whimper that broke Narcissa's heart, and dropped into her arms, sobbing.

“He killed them, HE KILLED them,” he yelled as soon as he caught his breath.

“Sirius, who killed who?” asked Narcissa, panicking.

“LILY AND JAMES, HE KILLED LILY AND JAMES.”

She failed to understand the rest of his words, which became completely inconsistent.

“The traitor ... Harry at his muggle aunt... dirty rat... Dumbledore is making a fool of me...”

Suddenly, he rose and Narcissa saw his determined look.

“Sirius you’re scaring me, what are you doing?”

He didn't answer, too busy looking for something in his auror stuff.

“SIRIUS, ANSWER ME NOW.”

Without looking at her, he spoke.

“Peter is a traitor. He was the one who gave them up. I'm going to kill him.”

He said that casually, and she got scared. He couldn't do this. If he killed this man, he would be tried for murder. He could not have the custody of his godson who had apparently survived. He would also  _ abandon _ her. Quickly, she took her wand out of her pocket and immobilized him.

“You're not going anywhere, Sirius, not until you tell me exactly what happened. And if you want to avenge your friends, it won't be by killing this Peter. We will catch him, and we will have him condemned. Otherwise, you will never have Harry's custody. Is that clear?”

**May 1982**

“Our verdict is final, Lord Black. Albus Dumbledore made the right decision when he brought your godson, Harry James Potter, to his only remaining family. As he demonstrated, and as our experts have recognized, Mrs. Dursley was included in the protective spell triggered by Lily Potter's sacrifice last October. The protection could potentially be extended to other persons if Mrs. Dursley wanted it, but the Wizengamot is firm on this point: Mr. Potter will be better raised by his uncle and aunt, who already have a stable situation and a child, rather than by you, Lord Black, who indeed live… a more free life.”

“Your Honor if I may, my cousin, Miss. Narcissa Black, and her son have been living with me since last summer.”

“The Wizengamot has also considered this point, Lord Black, but your cousin's affiliation with You-Know-Who’s movement means that we cannot entrust you with Harry Potter. The public would not really like it if the one who got rid of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was raised alongside the son of a Death Eater. Not to mention that we cannot be certain that the young Malfoy, or even his mother, will not hold a grudge against Harry Potter for the fate of You-Know-Who’s followers.”

“But, Your Honor...”

“That's enough, Lord Black. The debate is closed and we agree on the fact that Harry Potter remains in his maternal family.”

Fairly upset, Sirius headed for the bench where his cousin was sitting. She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and led him towards the exit.

“No scandal, Sirius. I have another plan.”

“Another plan? What else could make them change their minds?”

“You said you were certain that this Mrs. Dursley would be mean to Harry?”

“Yes.”

“And what would the public do if they had evidence that their hero was being mistreated?”

**_THE CHOSEN ONE, NOT SO LUCKY?_ **

__

_ Since the verdict of the Wizengamot last March concerning the custody of the boy now known as ‘The Survivor’, the public has been wondering. _

__

_ Is it a good idea to leave him with his muggle relatives? Why not entrust him to his godfather, Lord Sirius Black, who could also benefit from the protection left by Lily Potter if a correct ritual was performed? The family ties uniting the Chosen One and his aunt are mentioned, but wouldn't it be more appropriate for him to be raised in his own community? _

__

_ In order to learn a little more about Muggle customs and to answer the numerous questions she got from her readers, your devoted journalist made an investigation and stayed for a week at Mr. Potter’s new home, observing this somewhat unusual family. _

__

**_A normal day at the Dursleys_ **

__

_ Mrs. Dursley wakes up at dawn and takes care of the household before the rest of the family wakes up. She seems to be a competent cook and a good smell soon spreads throughout the house. _

__

_ A first scream arises, apparently from the first floor. The devoted mother rushes to pick up her child and takes care of him as well as she can. _

__

_ The father, Mr. Dursley, also gets up and, after saying hello to his wife and son, goes to the dining room to take his breakfast. _

__

_ A second cry is heard, this time from the lower floor. Was young Harry already up? Has your reporter not seen him? No, dear readers, and make sure you are hanging on to your seat when you continue reading. _

__

_ Harry Potter, the child who got rid of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sleeps in a CLOSET, UNDER THE STAIRS. _

__

_ Do not rub your eyes in the hope of seeing something else than what is written. The Chosen One has been relegated to a fate worse than that of a house elf. _

__

_ [Photo of the closet in question, with young Potter sleeping.] _

__

_ Twenty minutes have passed since the child's first cry, and finally Mrs. Dursley takes into account the lamentation of her husband who complains about the noise and opens the door. Harry Potter comes out alone and heads towards the kitchen, where his aunt grudgingly gives him a leftover pancake that his cousin didn't want to finish. Young Dudley seems to have noticed the intruder and starts beating him with the first object he finds - his milk bottle, most of the time. No one intervenes, but Mr. Dursley complains about the noise again. Mrs. Dursley separates the two children and gives a candy to her son, who starts to scream. _

__

_ [Young Dudley Dursley beating his cousin, under the indifferent gaze of his parents] _

__

_ Mr. Dursley is ready and goes to work. Mrs. Dursley puts the children to bed and tidies up the house before preparing lunch. The children wake up, and she picks up her son and prepares him for an outing. She finally changes her nephew’s diaper and puts him back in his closet before going for a walk with her son. She will return an hour and a half later, with a child carrying around the lips the traces of the ice-cream he asked for while kicking his stroller. _

__

_ [Harry Potter having his meal on the floor] _

__

_ Meal time is not easy. There is only one high chair and Mrs. Dursley therefore gives her nephew a plate which she places directly on the floor, before complaining about its condition at the end of the meal. Once again, after playing for a while, the two young children return to bed. They will have a dinner - frugal, in the case of the Potter heir - and young Dursley will be washed and changed before going to bed. Harry will only have a bath once during the week. _

__

_ [Harry Potter in the outfit he wore all week, to sleep or when he was awake] _

__

_ Night falls upon the house, and we can hear crying coming from the cupboard under the stairs. Does Harry Potter dream of better days? _

__

_ Rita Skeeter _

**The Burrow**

“ARTHUR! Have you read the Gazette?”

Arthur Weasley was giving food to their youngest son when his wife, Molly, arrived in the kitchen.

“No, Molly. Something wrong?”

“Something wrong? Worse than that. Look for yourself.”

Arthur picked up the newspaper and started reading, his face darkening as he discovered the content of the article mentioned by his wife.

“Molly darling, can you give Ron the rest of his meal? I have to go to the ministry.”

“Go ahead, Arthur. And don't hesitate to tell them what I think of their decision!”

**Longbottom Manor**

“TWINKY!”

“Mistress called?”

“Twinky," Augusta Longbottom began, "I am leaving immediately for the ministry and they’ll see what I’m made of. Harry Potter in a closet, and I thought I had seen everything. The Potters were very good friends of Frank, I will not accept their son being treated like that.”

“Twinky will take care of the young master.”

“Good. And don't forget to tell me if he shows accidental magic.”

**Hogwarts Castle**

“ALBUS!”

The door crashed open, and Minerva McGonagall entered, making the portraits tremble in fear.

“Albus, did you read the article this morning?”

“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, my dear Minerva.”

“This article.”

Dumbledore, still wearing his night robes, took the newspaper and started reading it.

"I see," he said. "I'm afraid we can't do much about it, unfortunately. I told them in the letter to take care of Harry as if he was their own son, but...”

“We can't do much about it? WE CAN'T DO MUCH ABOUT IT?”

“Harry must stay with his aunt, Minerva. We do not have the choice.”

“WE HAVE THE CHOICE AND YOU KNOW IT, ALBUS. YOU SIMPLY DON'T WANT TO LEAVE HIM TO SIRIUS BECAUSE YOU FEAR THAT HARRY WILL NO LONGER BE UNDER YOUR CONTROL.”

“MINERVA.”

“That's enough, Albus. I’m going to the ministry. I warned you that these muggles were horrible. Harry Potter won't stay a minute longer with them, I promise you.”

**June 1982**

Petunia had been escorted by two men with hard faces and had been brought into a trial room which looked more like a dungeon in her opinion. The crowd was large, and insults followed her arrival. A magical barrier was erected and, throughout the duration of the trial, she had been terrified that something should happen to her before she could go home.

She had been told that Albus Dumbledore would defend her but, seeing the judge and his peers, she knew she had no chance. The British Prime Minister was also there, and she swallowed when she saw him.

She spent the morning out of focus, unable to respond to the accusations that were piling up one after the other, and was on the verge of bursting into tears several times when the crowd booed her. Finally, the jury members voted and the prime minister of wizards, a certain Fudge, began to speak.

“Mrs. Dursley, he began, this jury finds you guilty of all of the charges brought before this court. However, this jury is not able to convict you because you are not under its responsibility. It will therefore be up to the representatives of your government to decide on your sentence. However, the custody of Harry Potter is now taken from you and you will not have the right to contact him, until his majority. In addition, you will have to submit once a year to a ritual where you will pass to Lord Black, the godfather of your nephew, the magical protection you have from your sister. On behalf of all my fellow citizens, I wish to inform you that your attitude towards one of our own, a hero moreover, has been lamentable. I sincerely hope that this incident will not taint the future relationships we may have with the muggle world.”

A huge brouhaha broke out in the room, and everyone tried to go and congratulate Sirius Black, who could not hold back tears of joy.

Sirius took the child in his arms and, once the government representative had left, returned home. When he closed the door, he was not surprised to see Narcissa, herself with Draco in her arms. The two children stared at each other for a few moments, and Draco handed Harry a dragon-shaped toy that he carried everywhere with him. Sirius smiled and placed a kiss on his godson's forehead.

“Welcome back home, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tadaaaa!
> 
> Hope you liked it :)
> 
> Krummbein


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